


I'm so tired, Katniss

by oakfarmer



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Post-Mockingjay, Pre-Epilogue Mockingjay, growing back together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:03:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27702500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oakfarmer/pseuds/oakfarmer
Summary: Growing back together through a series of napsi.e. Author wanted Peeta to get some rest
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 27
Kudos: 115





	I'm so tired, Katniss

_I’m so tired, Katniss._

He didn’t mean to say it. It slipped out. They haven’t been working on the memory book that long. Probably not even an hour.

Katniss reaches behind him and pulls a quilt off the back of the couch. “Then lay down.”

Peeta’s head whips up. “Here??” He regrets it immediately. The way she tried to hide her flinch at his shock.

She looks down at the quilt in her lap. Twisting one of the loose strings.

His head is swimming. When was the last time he slept? At least the past three nights have been spent wandering his empty house. Taking too much solace in the occasional screams floating through his open windows. Proof that whatever woke him really was just another nightmare. Mostly.

“Yea…umm….I’d like that. To lay down.” The last thing he wants to do is go back home. He hopes whatever he’s doing with his face looks like a smile and not a grimace.

She doesn’t say anything as she stands and unfolds the quilt. He adjusts one of the couch pillows and lays back. His eyes stay locked on her face.

Gently draping the blanket over him, she finally looks at him. He thought he’d see her usual sadness, maybe fear, instead he finds a quiet determination.

Her hand slowly reaches towards him. She pushes a curl back off his forehead. “Go to sleep, Peeta.” His eyes close to the soft sound of her voice.

He feels her slink down at the end of the sofa. His foot tucked under the edge of her leg.

Muscles he didn’t know were tensed unfurl from knowing exactly where she is.

The rest of the world fades away.

_Together._

Peeta calls out. “On the count of three. One, two, three!”

They hoist the frame up. Lifting the final bakery wall into place. It looks like one of his sketches, the rough lines hinting at the future finished painting.

“Brace!” Thom instructs the crew.

Peeta grabs one of the boards. Hammering it in place, he thinks of his father. If he’d be happy with some of the liberties he’s taken with the new design. A Mellark bakery has stood on this same footprint for over a century. In some small way, it feels like bringing a piece of all of them back to------

“Ahhh! Son of a ---” Peeta stops himself before he says the whole phrase in front of the crew. Maybe he should change it to Son of a Ghost. Haymitch would appreciate the dark humor. Not sure about the rest of them.

His thumb throbs. The underside of the nail already beginning to change colors. He throws the hammer down into the dirt.

“You okay?” Thom jogs over to him.

“I’ll live. Just another limb, right?” He’d meant it to sound less bitter than it came out.

Thom lifts his hat and wipes the sweat off his brow. “Made some good progress today. We’ve got it covered from here. Why don’t you take a break? Get some rest.”

“I’m good. I can ---"

“Go home, Mellark.” Thom interrupts. Apparently, he had not been making a mere suggestion.

Peeta walks through the archway into Victor Village. His feet pause halfway up the path.

Home. He should turn left. To the house that still holds most of his belonging. The one the new government has officially left in his name. Where he’ll bake tomorrow’s bread.

He turns right. Climbing the steps of Katniss’ house, he knows she won’t be here. She’ll still be in the woods. Not hunting this late in the day, but sitting in a tree somewhere. Alone.

She’s always back before dinner, he reminds himself.

He climbs the stairs and flops on the bed. In the time that he’s been back in 12, he’s spent more nights in this bed than he has in his own. 

His eyes close as he inhales the sweet scent of pine and her shampoo.

_Always._

Her smile is radiant. He wants to memorize every detail of how she looks when she’s genuinely happy. Overlaying each one on top of the blurs in his mind.

Today has been the best day he can remember. Maybe the ones he’s forgotten don’t matter anymore.

It started like a normal Saturday. Normal for the last few weeks anyway. Their routine of a non-hunting hike through the woods and a picnic lunch.

He should have known something was different when she was itching to get out the door. Practically buzzing with each step.

His suspicions were piqued by the second hour of hiking but he still wasn’t prepared for the sight when the shimmering lake came into view.

Swimming and laughing. Wet clothes and skin.

They lie together on the shore. Her silly question about if he would hire her for more swim lessons, was met with his too meaningful declaration. She didn’t seem to mind the shift in tone.

She lays her head on his chest. Her damp hair soaking into the shirt that’s supposed to be drying.

The warmth of the sun blankets over them. As her breathing evens out, his eyes drift shut.

_I cant._

“Yes you can. You march your muffin butt back over there right now!”

He ignores Haymitch’s reference to his butt. He’s familiar with the tricks his mentor uses to try to lighten a serious conversation.

“I called her a mutt. I don’t even know what else I said.” Peeta folds his arms on the table and puts his head down.

Haymitch burps. “Yeah. So, you ran your mouth, what else is new. What about the rest of you?”

He lifts his head slightly “I..... I held on to the back of a chair.”

“K, and why are you in my kitchen again?” He hears Haymitch stand and fumble around in a cupboard.

Peeta muffles into his arms not bothering to lift his head this time. “You’re babysitting the real mutt.”

A cork pops, Haymitch places a hand on his shoulder. He gives a quick squeeze. “Take a nap, kid.”

_You love me. Real or not real?_

She’s under him. Pink cheeks and a smile playing on her lips. Her eyes look deep into his own when she answers, “Real.”

He kisses her again. Slow and lingering. They have time.

When he slips out of her, he rolls onto his side. Propping up on his elbow so he can watch her. She’s glowing.

Katniss smiles, still looking up at the ceiling. “Lay down.”

He adjusts the pillow and she scoots into his arms.

There is so much he wants to say. I love you. Stay with me. Will you marry me? Her soft voice keeps him from rushing too far ahead.

“Go to sleep, Peeta.”


End file.
